


Revelations

by Devilc



Category: Titan AE
Genre: M/M, Science Fiction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-01-08
Updated: 2010-01-08
Packaged: 2017-10-05 23:37:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,033
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/47274
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Devilc/pseuds/Devilc
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Korso learns that just because somebody is young, don't assume they don't know damn good and well what they want.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Revelations

**Author's Note:**

> Titan AE was a very uneven, yet very slashy movie. I wrote this one day at work (about 10 years ago) while prentending to walk around with a yellow clipboard and take inventory.

Captain Korso had not expected Cale to have such striking good looks. He had anticipated a gawky pimple faced teenager. He found a strapping, tattooed boy-man, with blond golden boy looks, and a cocky, self assured attitude.

He had expected Cale to start chasing after Akima the moment he stepped onboard the ship. All the men and boys chased after Akima. With her slender, supple body, flashing black eyes, and purple streaked hair, Korso had to admit Akima was one hot piece of meat. Any guy would love to have her, well, almost any guy, Korso mused. But, strangely enough Cale did not start sniffing after Akima. Their relationship was decidedly stormy (all of Akima's relationships were); Cale pretty much treated her like the rest of the crew, and none of them were human.

Instead, Cale spent almost all of his free time such as it was (there were no guests on Korso's ships) with Korso, and the abject hero worship the 17 year old held for him baffled Korso. He wondered if he had had the same kind of worship for Cale's father, the man who designed the now legendary lost ship, Titan AE. Korso supposed that Cale looked up to him as some sort of a father figure. Curious in itself, because from what Korso had seen, Cale had little use for authority figures, and anything Cale said about his father was bitter; Cale felt his father had abandoned him, and nothing Korso said made a difference. Korso didn't mind all the attention, except that what he felt for Cale was anything but fatherly.

It made Korso's daily training session with Cale a mixture of heaven and hell. Heaven to spend time with such a vibrant, talented, and beautiful young man. Hell to see that toned young body clad only in a shirt and shorts across the mat from him and not pounce on it. It took all of Korso's considerable resolve to keep his mind on the task at hand, all of his restraint not to ask Cale a few blunt questions. Korso couldn't risk destroying Cale's image of him. Not yet. Everything hinged on Cale's thinking he was an honorable man  both in terms of keeping his word to the Drej (oh, if he had but known what giving it then would cost him now) and in being able to train Cale to have a chance at defeating him, and in doing so, defeat those Drej fuckers. Besides, if he couldn't have Cale's body, he could have his adulation (at least for a while)  and there was always the morning shower and his vivid imagination to take the edge off.

Korso drew in a deep, cleansing breath, and focused on the task at hand: teaching Cale how to defeat a knife attack.

Cale fell with a thud and a groan.

"If I had been using a real knife, you'd be dead, boy," Korso said in his sternest voice. "Listen to me. You may be good at holding your own in a brawl, but those days have passed you.

"You're a wanted man, Cale, and they won't be sending some roughneck after you. They'll send professionals. Now let's run though it again. You pretend to have the knife."

Grumbling softly, Cale pushed an errant lock out of his eyes and squared himself up.

"On your toes, boy  don't ever let them catch you flat footed, and don't ever launch an attack flat footed. You lose all the spring you need."

Cale adjusted himself accordingly.

"Good. Now, arm first. Always, your arm is the first thing going forward, go forward with your foot and you leave yourself wide open. Yes, that's it.

"Now watch, I step to the side, the side you're attacking from. I grab your wrist as I pass by and turn, and-" Korso flipped Cale on the ground "- whoomp! You're on the ground. Okay? Good. Now it's your turn."

After a few false starts, Cale was able to run through the move at speed; Korso found himself slamming into the mat, breath leaving with a wheeze.

"Like that, Captain?" Cale's brown eyes had a wicked (and proud) glint to them.

"Yes, boy, like that," Korso squeaked out. When he was finally able to draw a full breath, he said, "But don't stand there and gloat like that, because your opponent might take the opportunity to do this!" Korso grabbed Cale's ankle and pulled it out from under him. Cale tumbled to the floor, hard.

"Owww!" Cale sat up, cradling his wrist.

"You okay?"

"Yeah, I just kind of landed funny on it."

Korso gently manipulated the wrist, gauging the boy's reaction, then said, "Well, I don't think you did any real damage. It will just be sore for a few hours. Get Akima to put a little liniment on it  should feel better in time for flight training later on."

"Akima..."Cale grumbled.

"What's that mean, Cale?" Korso rarely called Cale by his name, so when he did, it got the young man's attention.

"I just can't figure her out, Captain. One moment she's real cool, or she'll be teasing me, but some times, the dumbest things will just set her off."

Korso knew Akima's hair trigger temper well. "Just cut her some slack. She's had a rough life. In a few months you'll get to know her ways."

### ***

  
Cale loaded the fighter training program and climbed into the training pod next to Korso's. The bogies came thick and fast, but years of roughnecking it in a heavy duty wrecking center had given Cale superior hand-eye coordination. In the Zero G wrecking yards, it was a matter of simple survival. Cale came to target training with a sound foundation. He had a deft touch on the guns, swiveling and gyrating as if he were back in the yards, flowing smoothly from shot to shot with no jerks or hesitation. He matched Korso kill for kill. Only a few enemy fighters remained, but unfortunately for Korso, they were in optimal firing position. Despite his best efforts, Korso was killed after a few moments. He leaned back in his pod and studied Cale.

Cale had managed to eliminate two of the fighters, but the remaining one was behind him. Incredulous, Korso watched as Cale slowed down and began flying very erratically, too erratically for the enemy to get a lock on him. The distance between the two fighters closed, until the enemy ship dared not come any closer for fear of being caught in the debris field if it destroyed Cale's ship. Suddenly, Cale threw his ship into full reverse, as if he intended to ram the ship behind him. At the last possible moment, he cut the thrusters, flipping to the docking jets as he hauled back on the stick. His fighter did a flip up and over the bogie. It was the damnedest thing Korso had ever seen  an extremely dangerous, all or nothing gamble. It worked. Cale's fighter came in behind the last fighter, and he blasted it to bits.

"Woo-haaa!" Cale leapt out of his simulator and high fived Korso.

"Ya done good, kid," Korso said affectionately ruffling Cale's hair. What he felt must have shown in his eyes, because suddenly Cale froze.

/Shit! Shit! Shit!/ Korso thought as he watched Cale mumble something and walk away. Dejected, Korso trudged back to his quarters.

"Well, that's fucked," he said to himself, absently stroking his goatee as he paced. Gune came over the intercom, informing him that dinner was ready.

"Very well," Korso replied, "I'll be up in few minutes." He sat on his bunk and stared at the no-skid steel flooring for a few minutes, pondering his options. He had to go up. He couldn't avoid Cale forever. What had once been easy and natural would now be silent and strained. Life was that way sometimes, and things between them would only get worse once Cale found out the truth about Korso.

### ***

The food tasted like dust. Korso had no idea what Gune had prepared. He shoveled it in, chewed, and choked it down. Korso noticed Cale giving him strange, sidelong glances during dinner. Crap. Well, later on he'd try to talk to Cale in private, explain to him that while he preferred men, he had no intention of abusing their relationship. Hopefully, Cale would understand. Everything depended upon his ability to reach (and teach) Cale in the coming months.

Korso's opportunity came later in the evening. After a long watch he handed the helm off to Stith and headed down the corridor to his cabin. A few yards ahead of him, Cale stepped in front of him headed the same direction. Korso studied the broad shoulders for a few moments, gave a wistful sigh, cleared his throat and said, "Cale, I..."

Cale stopped and turned around to face Korso. "Yes, Captain?"

"Er, yes. Cale, as you've probably figured out, I prefer men..." Korso trailed off. This was so awkward. He cleared his throat again and continued, "I-I want you to understand that I would never"

"You know what the problem is with you adults? You don't know shit. You just assume that because as person's young they don't know a damn thing about what they want. Give me a fucking break." Cale opened a door to an unused storage room and shoved Korso in. "Let me think for a second here. Oh, yeah, I got it. I'm the golden boy savior here, so I couldn't possibly know what it's like to suck cock. I couldn't possibly dig it." Cale dropped to his knees before Korso, ripping Korso's zipper down. "I'm old enough to know what I like." With that he sucked Korso's member into his mouth.

Although Korso had had better, Cale was not inexperienced when it came to giving blow jobs, he determined. Korso rapidly came to full hardness under the attention of Cale's swirling, dancing tongue. After few minutes, Cale found *the spot* right under the crown. Korso could not restrain the groan of pleasure that came from deep within. "Oh, geez, Cale, that's it, right there, right like that..." Korso began to gently thrust into the hot mouth. Cale adjusted his sucking and licking, riding up and down with Korso's throbbing shaft. When he couldn't hold back any longer, Korso jerked out, shooting his seed on the floor and on Cale's face.

"Jeezus, Cap'n. You should've warned me. I would've swallowed."

When he stopped panting, Korso reached out and softly stroked Cale's cheek. He slowly knelt before Cale  the heat in Cale's eyes flaring brightly as Cale realized what Korso was about to do  unzipped his pants, and drew the youth's weeping shaft into his mouth. Korso rolled his tongue over the head, savoring the salty, musky taste of Cale's pre-come. Cale shivered in delight, and Korso got down to the task of giving Cale a good hard sucking. As Korso began pumping his mouth up and down, Cale quickly became incoherent. Korso chuckled softly to himself. Swirling his tongue up the shaft, Korso felt Cale's sex stiffen that final increment. He knew what that meant. Ravenously he sucked Cale's cock deep within. With a choked cry, Cale came, violently shooting his seed into Korso's mouth and down his throat. He swallowed the sour-salty mass.

"Cap'n...that-that was incredible!" Cale gasped after several seconds passed.

Korso smiled.

"Um...you don't want me to come back to your room or anything like that, do you?"

Korso sighed at Cale's typically blunt question. As much as he'd like to take the kid back to his quarters and fuck him for hours, that just wasn't practical. "Cale, it's not as if I don't want to, but I know that it just isn't a good idea at the moment. We'll talk tomorrow. Okay?"

"It's okay, Captain. One of the first things I learned in the wrecking yard was not to confuse sex with love."

Korso affectionately ruffed Cale's hair, "A valuable lesson. You're a good man, Cale. Don't ever lose sight of that."

"You're a good man, too, Captain."

/If only you knew, if only you knew/ Korso mused bitterly as he headed towards his quarters.

**Author's Note:**

> Has a sequel in [No Country for Young Men](http://archiveofourown.org/works/47278).


End file.
